


show you the stars in the daylight

by bruisedhoney



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 16 and 18, 26 and 28, Belly Bulging, Bottom Louis, Childhood Friends, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Indiana Jones mentions???, Jealous Harry, Jealous Louis, Light Angst, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Porn With Plot, Size Difference, Size Kink, Top Harry, Unsafe Sex, Wall Sex, and then, brief mention of death of a parent, i don't know what this is anymore but i hope y'all enjoy, oh my god they're both so stupid skfjdglk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27775282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisedhoney/pseuds/bruisedhoney
Summary: Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form.  Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”Or, the one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it's definitelynothis best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 94
Kudos: 858
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020





	show you the stars in the daylight

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt 130:** They met each other when they were still young (like Harry was 16-ish), and Louis once told him drunkenly that his ideal man was someone who was tall, muscular and able to lift him up or pin him down. A few years later, puberty hit Harry hard and now he became taller, more muscular. Then Harry would say something like “I can lift you up easily now, Lou” and Louis is now seriously attracted to him even though he was like a little brother to him. Harry ends up fucking Louis against the wall.
> 
> ✩
> 
> first of all, thank you SO UNBELIEVABLY MUCH to the mods of this fest! for letting me participate, for helping the writers every step of the way, for being the best cheerleaders out there, and for putting together such a wonderful outlet to create. i appreciate you so much!
> 
> second, i can't even begin to name everyone that helped and encouraged me along the way, so i'm not even going to try. but just know — and you _know_ who you all are — this fic wouldn't exist without you! i couldn't ask for a more supportive group of people that i'm lucky to surround myself with, and i love y'all so, so, so much. thank you.
> 
> * and for the record: i do not authorize ANY repostings or translations of any of my work.
> 
> title from “off the grid” by alina baraz ft. khalid

✩

_ten years ago_

“Oh god Harry, _right there_!” Louis shouted, practically breathless at this point. His fingers worked tirelessly, pushing all the right buttons. “Fuck, you’re so close!” 

“ _Shit!_ ” Harry said, tossing the controller halfway across the bed after yet another loss. The loading screen popped up on the television, saving his progress or lack thereof in the video game he’d been working on beating. With Louis’s assistance, of course. 

Though Louis was Gemma’s friend mostly, he had started to spend more time with Harry whenever Gemma wasn’t around. They’d always been close, is the thing. Louis and Gemma grew up together, and Harry had always tagged along as little brothers do. Over the past couple of years, whenever Louis had popped by after school when Gemma was at practice, or a study session, or anywhere but home, Louis would knock on Harry’s door and shyly ask “ _Do you wanna hang out_?” Harry’s answer was always yes.

Despite the two year difference between them, Louis always treated him as his equal. Louis never talked down to him, or censored any topics of conversation. It was easy to be around him, to joke with him, to talk to him. Being with Louis was just easy, and it had become one of Harry’s favorite things to do.

And of course, all the time they spent together was doing absolutely _nothing_ to help Harry’s annoyingly juvenile crush on him. 

Louis looked over at him, smiling and breathless from their intense gaming session. “What?” he said through his smile, poking Harry’s leg with his toes from across the bed. 

“Nothing,” Harry said, his own smile causing his dimple to pop as he reached over to retrieve his discarded controller. “Wanna have another go?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Louis said, crossing his legs and tucking his feet under his thighs.

Harry’s bedroom door creaked open at that moment, and Gemma poked her head in. She smiled, seeing her little brother and her best friend perched on his lofted bed. “What’re you two doing in here?” 

“Just playing,” Louis said, nudging against Harry with his foot. Harry smiled. “Ready to go?” Louis asked Gemma, who nodded.

“Ready when you are.”

Harry’s smile faded and a crease formed between his brow. “Where are you going?” he asked them both. 

Louis looked back as he slid on his jacket and shoes, running his fingers quickly through his messy fringe. “Got to go grab the drinks for tonight and start setting up.”

“Tonight?” Harry asked, confused as ever.

Louis nodded. “Yeah Haz, I’m having a party, remember? Parents are out of town,” he said with a sly grin. “You’re coming,” Louis paused, his lips turning down slightly at the corners. “Aren’t you?”

Behind him, Gemma began to furiously nod with a manic grin. Harry’s crush on Louis was anything but a secret in the Styles household, and his entire family tended to do everything they could to fuel the flames. Harry mimicked her, nodding in Louis’s direction. “Y-Yeah! Of course I am,” he said, huffing out a laugh as if it was incredibly stupid to think he’d be anywhere _but_ Louis’s party tonight, despite not having known it was even happening until thirty seconds before. “I’ll meet you over there at…” Harry trailed off, eyes darting back to Gemma for an answer.

“At nine!” She hurried to finish. 

Louis laughed, looking back and forth between the siblings, face scrunched cutely. “At nine,” he repeated, giving Harry a little smile and wave. “See you then.”

The door clicked shut behind them, and Harry fell back dramatically onto his bed, heart racing out of his chest. Maybe it was ridiculous, but a surge of panic struck him as he thought, _what should I wear?_ He was out of his league here — he’d never been invited to a house party, let alone one thrown by his upperclassman crush. His sister’s best friend. Maybe at this point he was even one of _his_ best friends. 

Harry sighed, sinking into his bedsheets even though he knew that he needed to go ahead and get up and start getting ready for tonight. He glanced over at his _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ poster, and wondered how ridiculous he’d look in tight pants, a billowing button down only done up halfway, and a brown, wide-brimmed hat. Seemed a little too adventurous for a house party, but. The idea was intriguing. Maybe one day, he decided, but not tonight. Besides, the snow was falling heavy outside by this point, and he’d definitely need to bundle up for the walk over. But he’d need to bundle up…in a _cool_ way. He needed to do his best not to look like a total kid at his first house party.

Seeing everyone else crowding the house, Harry felt confident in his decision to play it safe in skinny jeans, chunky trainers and a knitted henley. It was easy to blend in amongst the sea of people occupying the space of Louis’s childhood home, the loud music playing and the drinks liberally flowing. Louis found him not long after he’d gotten there, ushering him back to his bedroom to toss his beanie, coat and scarf in there for safekeeping. “So you won’t misplace them,” Louis had explained with a tipsy smile, having started drinking before Harry had gotten there. 

“I’m surprised so many people are already here,” Harry said, unsure if the _nobody cool shows up on time_ theory was actually a _thing_. 

Louis snorted. “Right? I wasn’t prepared for that at all, but I put everyone that showed up early to work setting up and we actually got everything together in record time. Worked out for the best.” 

He swung open the mini fridge acting as a bedside table and pulled out two beers, offering one to Harry. His eyes dragged over Harry appreciatively, and Harry flushed, shifting his weight back and forth. “You look good,” Louis said with an approving nod, pulling the tab of the beer can.

At that, Harry’s brain malfunctioned, and without knowing what else to do, he tried to take a sip of his closed beer. Louis laughed softly, stepping forward to offer him, his own already open can. “This one might work better,” he said with a wink. “Let’s head back out there, come on.”

Harry followed Louis like he was in a daze. Following him around, taking every drink he was offered from Louis and not even thinking twice about it. Soon enough, he found himself buzzed and blushing in the kitchen. Louis was sitting up on the kitchen counter and Harry was standing between his spread legs, sipping happily at his beer. 

“Grab me another, will you?” Louis asked sweetly, ruffling Harry’s messy curls before gesturing to the fridge. 

“‘Course, Lou,” Harry said, grabbing a can and cracking it open before handing it to Louis.

“You know, you probably shouldn’t even be drinking,” Louis said with a giggle, practically slamming the can’s lip against his mouth until he managed to take a successful sip. It had been a few hours since the party really started, and at this point Louis was definitely drunker than Harry had previously thought. 

Harry’s brow creased in response, fingers gripping his beer tighter. “It’s legal to drink at sixteen, Lou. You know that.”

Louis burst into a fit of giggles. “I know, I’m just messing with you, Curly. You’re just so little, doesn’t even feel like you’re of age sometimes,” he said, leaning forward with his hand pressed against Harry’s chest. Harry wondered if Louis could feel the frantic pounding of his heart through the thin material of his shirt, but he smiled anyway, his hand resting over Louis’s. Louis’s blurred gaze refocused, looking over Harry’s shoulder. “God, he’s so fit.”

Instinctively, Harry bristled, glancing over his shoulder to take a look at whoever Louis was talking about. It took him about two seconds to figure it out, quickly taking note of the university age guy standing a bit away.

“Is he?” Harry asked as casually as he could before taking a sip of his beer. 

“Yeah,” Louis sighed with a smile, his legs instinctively spreading a little wider where Harry was standing between them. Harry’s thumb and index finger pinched at his lip in thought, wondering where Gemma had run off to. He usually loved being around Louis, naturally. He loved everything involving Louis in most cases; but tonight, he wasn’t completely confident that he could deal with him in this state. 

Harry rolled his eyes, exaggerating it enough to make Louis chuckle, which was always his goal. “Who even needs muscles like that?” he scoffed, stupidly thinking that Louis would agree.

Instead, Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”

And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form, but Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.

“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”

Harry’s brow knit together at that, stomach sinking. He obediently moved out of the way, because after all, he was only sixteen. He wasn’t taller than Louis, and while he could pick him up for practical reasons, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pick him up in the way Louis intended. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be that kind of guy — Louis’s type. He shifted to the side wordlessly, and Louis didn’t even seem to notice, sitting up straighter the second that the tall rugby player made his way across the room to settle himself in the space between Louis’s legs that Harry had just been occupying. 

Unwelcome heat pooled in the pit of Harry’s stomach as he watched the two of them get on, introductions quick between them. Louis smiled at something the guy whispered in his ear, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and giggling, eyes crinkling with it. Harry grumpily drank his beer, doing his best not to think of what it might look like if the boneheaded jock did exactly what Louis wanted — pinned him down and made him take what he was given, or maybe hold him up and fuck him until he was breathless. Harry’s frown deepened as the guy pressed a kiss to Louis’s jaw, watching as Louis draped his arms over the athlete’s broad shoulders and leaned closer.

“There you are!” Gemma said with a grin, clapping her hand on Harry’s shoulder hard enough to jostle him. He hardly even turned to his left to look at her, glaring out of the corner of his eye. “What?” she said with a laugh, pulling back a bit as she took a swig of her drink. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothing,” Harry grumbled, finishing off his beer and tossing it into the bin. “Nothing. Are you ready to go?”

Gemma’s smile twisted into something confused, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah, sure, let me just say goodbye to Louis—” she started, turning to walk to Louis at the exact moment that the jock behind them surged forward open-mouthed, kissing him sloppily. Louis smiled into it, arms winding around his neck to keep him as close as he could. He looked like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Harry felt sick.

“Oh,” Gemma said softly, immediately understanding why her little brother was in such a mood. She blindly batted her hand around behind her until she was able to grab onto Harry’s wrist, pulling him from the kitchen. 

Thick smoke clouded the air of the house, the strong scent of even stronger drugs permeated the air around them. Gemma pushed their way through the crowds of people until they were finally outside. The cold night air was a shock to both of them after being surrounded by the body heat of so many others, but it was welcome to say the least. Harry felt like he could breathe again. 

“I’ll just text Louis and let him know that we’re leaving,” Gemma said as she pulled her phone out and began typing.

“I doubt he’ll care much,” Harry said softly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His foot shuffled against the gravel. Gemma looked up at that, expression pinched and sympathetic. Harry immediately looked down at the ground.

“I know you’ve always had a bit of a thing for him, Haz,” she said, shoving her phone back into her jacket pocket and pulling two pairs of gloves out of other, offering one set to her baby brother. “I’m sorry. You…you know how he is.”

Harry smiled sadly, taking the gloves and sliding them on. He sniffled a bit, from the cold, his eyes watering from the brisk wind blowing their way. He continued to stare at the ground, and realized that maybe he didn’t know Louis as well as he ever thought that he did. Sure, they were friends, but only through Gemma, right? Harry didn’t know what Louis’s favorite color was, or which was his favorite season. He didn’t know his preferred physical type in a partner, but he thought that he had known the things that mattered. 

He knew that Louis couldn’t help but smile whenever he talked about his family, and that he hated his birthday. He knew that you were guaranteed a soul shaking smile if you gave Louis any kind of sweet, especially when he was least expecting it. He knew that Louis’s feet and hands were perpetually cold, and that he’d use whoever was closest to him to cuddle close for their body heat. Harry knew that no one else’s voice could cheer him up the way Louis’s did after a bad day, and that he could talk to him for hours about nothing, or everything, and have more fun than if he were out with lads from his class. The harsh reality was that Harry was sixteen, and maybe he didn’t actually know much of anything.

He knew now that none of that held a flame to the fact that he wasn’t what Louis wanted, and never would be. He shrugged, and Gemma’s frowned deepened. “It’s fine. That’s just how it is, I guess,” he said. “It’s not like it matters anyway. You two will be off to University in a few months, and leave me here. Nothing would’ve come of it.” 

Gemma sighed, and Harry didn’t bother to look up. He wasn’t sure if his deprecating words were trying to convince himself or Gemma at this point. Neither of them said anything for a few moments, the wind picking up by the minute.

His cheeks were bitten with blush from the chill by the time he finally said, “Let’s just go.” Gemma nodded, knowing any comforting words that she’d have to offer would just fall flat whenever Harry was in a mood like this. She shot him a soft smile, and held out her arm for him to hook his through. 

And together, arm in arm and huddled close, they walked back home.

✩

_present day_

“Deep breaths, yeah? Can’t have you hyperventilating as you walk down the aisle,” Louis said with a soft laugh, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down Gemma’s arms. “Oh! I brought you something!” he said, holding his finger up, gesturing for her to pause. 

He came back with mini bottles of liquor in hand. “You’re a lifesaver,” she gushed, immediately twisting one open and taking a sip. “Best maid of honor ever.”

Louis’s hand flew to his chest in offense. “Oi, I thought we decided that my title was _best man_.”

Gemma shrugged. “Same thing.”

“No it isn’t,” Louis insisted, pouting as he twisted open his own bottle. “Hey, what time did Harry get in last night?”

Louis could clearly see her through the reflection of the gold framed mirror hanging on the wall as she delicately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Her brows raised a fraction at the question, a small smile threatening to tug up at the corners of her lips. “He got in around one in the morning.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Why?”

Louis shrugged, finishing off his mini vodka bottle. “I was just curious, that’s all. Haven’t seen him in like, a decade.”

Gemma hummed. “I guess it really has been that long, hasn’t it? Fuck,” she laughed. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t seen him since he was sixteen. You’re in for a surprise. Hey, hand me another one, will you?” 

“Wait, what?” Louis paused, mini bottle in hand. “What do you mean, ‘in for a surprise?’” 

“Hm?” She said, obviously distracted. At this point, Gemma was simultaneously both coating her already long lashes with another layer of mascara and taking another shot. If Louis didn’t know her better, he’d be impressed, but this is how she always got when she was nervous. She’d find something to busy her hands, something to mess with or something to do to distract herself from what she needed to be focused on.

“Hey,” Louis said, gently taking the mini bottle from her and placing it on the vanity. His hands found her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but it seemed frantic. It was hard to miss the tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m okay,” she insisted, but she had been Louis’s best friend for fifteen years. He knew her better than that. 

Wordlessly, he pulled her into a tight hug, and she immediately let out a wet sob. “Don’t ruin your makeup now, love, it’ll be alright.”

Gemma laughed, the sound somehow happy and sad at the same time. It made Louis’s heart clench in his chest, knowing the reason.

“You know he’d be so happy to see you today,” Louis murmured into her shoulder, rubbing her back slowly, soothingly. “He’d be so proud of you.”

Gemma let out another sob, squeezing Louis tighter to her. “I know he would.” 

“And Harry is going to be right there in his place, walking you down the aisle.” 

He felt her nod against him, pulling back slightly. “Let’s clean you up, yeah? Can’t have you looking a mess on your big day. Come here, sit. I’ll help.” Though he wasn’t a professional by any means, growing up with little sisters had plenty of benefits. One of them being teaching himself how to touch up makeup quickly when someone had a meltdown. Gemma sat, as he suggested, and he reached for the powder and a fluffy brush.

“You know, speaking of Harry,” Louis said as casually as he could. “When I picked up the suits a few days ago, I noticed the one labeled for him was a bit…” He trailed off as he dusted blush on her cheeks.

“A bit what?” Gemma asked, her normal cheekiness returning to her voice. 

Louis huffed, shaking his head. “A bit…big? Are we sure you had the right measurements for him? I mean, I know I haven’t seen him in a while, but. Come on, that’s a bit ridiculous. There’s no way he’s gotten that much taller since the last time I saw him.”

“Louis, he’s gotten taller since the last time _I_ saw him,” Gemma said. “It’s been six years since I last got a picture with him before he moved to Turkey, you know. And of course he’s against the whole social media thing so I can’t _show_ you, but I’m serious. He’s like, massive.”

“Massive,” Louis deadpanned. “Muscle massive?”

Gemma shrugged. “Not necessarily. Like, he’s _definitely_ bulked up, but he’s not like a body builder or anything. He’s just filled out. He’s just different.”

“Right,” Louis agreed quietly, mind working a million miles a minute to try to conjure the image of a tall, built Harry Styles. His imagination fell flat, only able to picture the scrawny little sixteen year old that would follow them around like a lost puppy. “I think I need another drink, what do you say?”

A smile spread across Gemma’s face, her makeup fresh and fixed. “I say yes, obviously,” she said with a laugh.

Louis grabbed two more bottles from his bag, tossing the other to Gemma just as the rest of the bridal party burst back into the suite in a fit of giggles. “Oh my _god_ ,” Marly said, face beet red.

“What is it?” Louis said, offering her a tiny bottle of liquor immediately. 

Marly’s flush deepened to an impossibly dark shade of maroon. “We went up to the bar to try to snag some beer because you know Marissa is a lightweight and can’t hold her liquor before the ceremony,” she said with a little side eye to one of the other bridesmaids. “Anyway, there was this _hot_ fucking guy there, ordering some drinks, and so, like. I started hitting on him, yeah? Halfway through the conversation he was like, ‘Marly don’t you recognize me?’ And it was fucking _Harry_.” Marly spun to Gemma, who was now bent over in hysterics, before turning back to the mirror, dabbing a tissue under her eyes. “ _Gemma_! You didn’t tell me that your little brother was hot now!” 

“Wait—” _What?_ Louis needed a second to process all of this. Now not only was Harry tall and buff, but he was _hot_? “Harry? Harry _Styles_?”

“Yes!” Marly shrieked. “I was practically hanging off of him before I realized who he was, and then he was like, ‘remember the time that you and Gemma drank an entire bottle of my mum’s whiskey and you puked on yourself?’ Like, what the _fuck_? He’s too hot to have seen me like that!”

“Harry Styles,” Louis said again, just to clarify. To be _one-hundred percent sure_ that they were _actually_ talking about the same person.

“Harry Styles,” Marly sighed dreamily. “Yeah.”

Louis’s brain couldn’t process all this new information. “I feel so lost right now,” he admitted with a little laugh.

“I told you, Lou,” Gemma said with a quick smile over her shoulder. “That you’re in for a surprise.”

Everything about the ceremony was beautiful. Fairy lights were draped from the ceiling, twinkling softly and creating a dreamlike ambiance. The gentle, classical music faded in, cueing the wedding party to proceed down the aisle. Louis stood to the left of the altar where Gemma and her soon to be husband would say their vows. 

The tune switched to something brighter, and more beautiful, signaling Gemma’s arrival. The entire crowd stood for her as the doors opened to reveal both her, clad in her elegant white dress, and her brother beside her. She was breathtaking, is the thing. Clad in her elegantly fitted white dress, she was an absolute vision. Louis had seen her in it all day that day, and she looked ethereal. Even with all of that, even with how beautiful she looked, the soft lights shimmering around her and her smile as radiant as he’d ever seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the man next to her. 

Even though all eyes were on her, Louis was _physically_ unable to move his gaze from Harry, who was arm in arm with his big sister, leading her down the aisle. He was… _big_ , and Louis couldn’t stop staring.

Somehow he both looked exactly like the sixteen year old that Louis was expecting to see, and yet…nothing at all like him. Logically, it had been ten years, so he knew that he’d look different — he just wasn’t expecting it to be this _drastic_. Harry filled out, just like Gemma and Marly claimed that he had. His shoulder length hair had been chopped off to a significantly shorter style than Louis had ever seen it before. It was styled on top, pushed back away from his face and cropped shorter on the sides, so short that his natural curls weren’t even able to pop through. Though he was different in so many ways, his eyes were the same bright green that they’d always been, and the same dimples still carved into his cheeks as he flashed Louis a blinding smile.

Harry kissed Gemma on the cheek before giving her away to her groom, taking his seat in the front row to watch the ceremony. The entire time, Louis felt like there were eyes on him, which _logically_ , he knew was true. He was standing by the alter at his best friend’s wedding ceremony for fuck’s sake, so he _knew_ that the entire crowd was looking up in his direction. But, it somehow felt…different. 

It was immediately confirmed when Louis glanced to the audience. Harry sat there, hands clasped in his lap with a small smile tugging up the corner of his lips, staring straight at Louis. Sweat coated his palms and he switched Gemma’s bouquet to his other hand, wiping his free palm on his slacks nervously. Harry chuckled silently, eyes crinkling at the sight, obviously aware of the impact he was having on Louis. Louis did his best to smile back, fearing that he might actually look like he was fighting a stomach ulcer instead. 

“Hi Lou,” Harry mouthed from the crowd. Louis almost lost it. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, biting at his lip and looking anywhere but at Harry, knowing that he wasn’t able to mouth anything back for fear of the audience catching the conversation. Harry knew as much, looking as smug as ever from his seat.

Louis’s breath quickened just from that, and his palms were saturated with a fresh coat of nervous sweat. He cleared his throat as softly as he could as to not disturb the vows. He looked anywhere but towards Harry.

Louis was fucked.

Soft, happy music filled the space as Harry led Gemma out onto the floor for what would typically be the father daughter dance. Her white dress was softened by the twinkling lights strung above, making the fabric look more cream than it had when Louis went with her to try it on. Her smile was big and full, and Harry’s matched it as they began to slowly dance the first dance of the reception. Louis was happy for her, of course. That was his childhood best friend out there, smiling as brightly as he’d ever seen, dancing with her little brother. Her little brother who Louis hadn’t seen in ten years. Her little brother, who wasn’t exactly _little_ anymore.

Louis turned back to the open bar, ordering another drink. He supposed that after all this time he really shouldn’t be this surprised that Harry had grown into himself. No longer were his prominent features too big for his sweet little cherub face. Gone were the huge, chocolate curls falling into his eyes, the wide lips, and the bunny teeth Harry goofily sported growing up. His eyes didn’t look cartoonishly big anymore, and he’d lost all of his puppy fat, cheekbones now carved and jaw sharp.

He took a sip of his vodka drink, wincing a little but welcoming the burn as it went down his throat, because, really, what the _fuck_. Sure, it had been a decade or so, and yes, maybe he didn’t keep up with people on social media like he probably ought to, but the shock of seeing Harry so grown and so big had him reaching for his drink again.

“Having fun?” a low, syrupy drawl said to his right. Louis almost jumped out of his skin. 

“Harry,” he said through a heavy swallow, doing his best to control his facial expression as he forced his drink down. “Hi. Yeah, yeah, loads of fun. Gemma’s practically lighting up the room,” he said with a nervous laugh, finger playing with the garnish in his glass.

Harry nodded, his mouth tugging up on one side in a half-smile as he watched his sister dancing with her now husband. “Yeah,” he agreed easily. “She is. Hey,” he said, turning back to Louis, arms crossed as he leaned on the bar. He scooted closer, nudging Louis gently with his elbow. “Wanna dance?”

“I—” Louis started to protest, but he suddenly couldn’t come up with a single excuse not to. He shrugged, playing nonchalance and nodded. “Sure, yeah.”

Harry held his arm out like he was a courtier leading a lady out onto the ballroom floor, and Louis couldn’t help but to laugh at that, winding his arm through Harry’s and letting him take lead. And it—it wasn’t as awkward as Louis had expected it to be. Harry’s hands settled on Louis’s waist and Louis reached up to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck, though his hands couldn’t quite meet. Harry jokingly squatted down, allowing Louis to pull him closer for just a moment before he protested, telling him _no, no, it’s fine, stand up_. 

“Suit yourself,” Harry said with a smile as they swayed back and forth as if they were at a formal in sixth year. “How’ve you been?” he asked softly between them, words quiet like he didn’t want to disrupt their little moment.

Louis sighed, shuffling just a bit closer. “Work’s hell, but when isn’t it?” he said with a half-hearted laugh, and at that Harry’s brow creased, nodding a little.

“You didn’t keep up with the songwriting?” Harry asked with a tilt of his head.

“Nope,” Louis said. “Had to grow up, yeah? Figured I wouldn’t make the money I needed to survive and all that,” Louis glanced up at Harry, and looked away quickly when he saw the pity filled expression on his face. “But, it’s no bother. Working at the firm has been fine. Enough about me. How have you been?” And he genuinely wanted to know. He wanted to know what Harry had been up to all these years, how university was for him, if he enjoyed his job more than Louis did, when the fuck he got so big—

“It’s been good,” Harry said, smiling to himself. “I know archeology isn’t the most thrilling thing to some people, but it’s been my dream forever. I’m sure you remember my Indiana Jones phase!” he said with a laugh, and did Louis _ever_. For years, Harry didn’t go anywhere without his brimmed, brown hat. 

“It suits you,” Louis admitted with a smile. Harry’s smiles still seemed to hold the same infectious quality, and he found himself happy to be here, talking to him again. “You look a bit like him now, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry said with a laugh. “Suppose I’m a bit bigger than I was the last time you saw me.”

Louis scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, leaning a little bit closer, and Louis’s heart skipped a beat. “I bet I could lift you up easily now, Lou.”

Heat shot down Louis’s spine, settling low. He stiffened a bit in Harry’s hold, making their dancing stilted and awkward. The thing was, that hadn’t been the first time Louis had thought that tonight. Harry had practically plucked that thought directly from Louis’s brain and then had the audacity to actually say it out loud while they were pressed _extremely_ close against each other.

“Oh,” Louis breathed out, because the more he had thought about it, the more he had realized that _yeah_ , Harry probably actually _could_ lift him up pretty easily now. Harry practically towered over him at this point. He definitely had to tilt his head back to make eye contact, and his chest was level with the upper part of Harry’s abdomen. He’d be embarrassed at the height difference if he wasn’t so fucking turned on.

“Don’t you think?” Harry continued babbling on, like what he’d just said hadn’t just shaken Louis to his very core. Louis could only nod and make a small sound of affirmation. Harry smiled, looking pleased as the song faded to an end. 

Louis took a step back, putting much needed space between them. Harry’s smile faded for only a second, nodding to himself and shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“I definitely think so,” Louis mumbled to himself, and he thought that maybe it had been quiet enough to keep it a secret. But the small little smile that spread across Harry’s lips proved that he’d spoken up just enough for him to hear him.

“Did you get a room?” Harry asked as casually as he could over his third tequila neat. They had made their way over to the numbered tables, and found that their seats had been placed next to each other, courtesy of Gemma’s seating of the wedding party. 

“Didn’t everyone in the wedding party?” Louis countered as he threw back another shot. Harry’s brows raised by a fraction, a smile tugging on the corner of his unfairly pink mouth. Louis’s eyes narrowed. “Why, what’re you up to?”

Harry laughed at that. “Nothing! Nothing, I was just trying to figure out how much longer I’ll have you around.”

Louis smiled a little. “Planning on going somewhere?”

Harry’s smile softened and he shrugged a little. “It’s just been really good to see you, Lou.”

The strings of Louis’s heart tugged at the old nickname. He’d been called it by friends and family for years, for the majority of his life, actually. But, here, now, having Harry call him something that was always reserved for the closest people in his life, had his stomach practically doing somersaults. 

“I missed you,” Harry continued, his foot bumping against Louis’s under the table. His smile grew as Louis’s face flushed with heat. 

“Missed you too, Haz,” he mumbled back, masking his shyness by quickly taking another sip of his wine. Looking around, the party was dying down at this point. Practically everyone besides close friends and family had either retired to their rooms, or left the hotel completely. 

Everything was hazy and soft, thanks to their hours of drinking. Louis felt warm and happy, his calf now completely pressed against Harry’s. He jumped when Harry’s hand reached down to gently grab his knee. 

Louis turned, and was surprised to see that Harry was even closer to him than he had been before. “We should go swimming,” he whispered conspiratorially, squeezing Louis’s knee as he said it. Louis squirmed away, ticklish. 

Mimicking his posture, Louis leaned closer to Harry, so close that their noses were practically touching. “We should steal a bottle of something from the bar first,” he said softly. “And then go swimming.”

Harry beamed. Already moving to stand up. “You’re a genius,” he told Louis as he leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead before making his way over to the bar. Louis’s mouth dropped open just slightly, the blush that seemed to now be a permanent fixture on his features making another appearance as his thoughts lingered on Harry kissing him. 

It was quick, and could be written off as amicable of course. Just a simple kiss on the forehead. But, something had his mind replaying the gentle kiss again and again. Whether it was the alcohol coursing through his system, or just the renewed interest in Harry, he wasn’t sure.

Harry was back by his side with a handle of liquor before Louis had even managed to fully process that he left. “Let’s go,” Harry whispered, nodding his head towards the exit, hiding the freshly stolen bottle behind his back. Louis grinned, enjoying the familiar and long missed feeling of doing something sneaky with one of his mates. And just like no time had passed, like there hadn’t been ten years since their last adventure together, he stood and followed Harry easily.

Hours seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and before they both knew it, they were warm, happy and drunk.

“I’m getting pruney,” Louis giggled, showing Harry the wrinkled pads of his fingers for proof. Harry chuckled, wrapping his own fingers around Louis’s hand and tugging him close through the water. The whiskey was thick on his tongue, and he felt himself become pliant, going easily where Harry pulled him, flush against his chest.

“Maybe it’s time we get out then, yeah?” Harry suggested softly, voice hoarse from the laughing and yelling and drinking that they’d been doing for half of the night.

Louis shrugged, giggling again. “Maybe,” he agreed. Harry smiled, pushing himself out of the pool and reaching down to help Louis out as well.

“Up you go,” Harry urged, hauling Louis up out of the heated water. Louis smiled, allowing himself to be manhandled out of the pool. Allowing Harry to prove just how easily he could now move and lift Louis. “A towel for you,” Harry said, wrapping it around Louis’s shoulders snugly. 

“Why thank you, sir,” Louis laughed, tucking it impossibly tighter around his frame. 

Harry smiled, tying his own around his waist. “Ready to head back in?”

Louis hummed, rocking forward on the balls of his feet as Harry’s thumbs brushed across the peaks of Louis’s cheekbones, wiping away water droplets that ran down his cheeks from his soaked hair. Louis leaned into it, unable to contain his whiskey coated smile. “Ready when you are.”

Harry leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Louis’s middle without prompt, and hauled him into the air. Louis screamed, beginning to flail. “Harry! Put me _down_.”

“No,” Harry said smugly, carrying him to the elevators with no hesitation, delivering a sharp little smack directly to his ass. “Don’t think I will.”

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis laughed loudly, too tipsy to do anything else. He wiggled the best that he could in his hold, not truly trying to escape from his grasp. Before he’d even realized it, they were at a hotel room. Harry fumbled around in his back pocket until he found the key card to his door that he’d stashed there earlier, easily unlocking it and pushing their way inside. 

“Put me down!” Louis urged again through trickling laughter, his giggling fading as Harry finally put him down. The moment his feet met the floor, he felt the energy between them shift, and though it wasn’t unwelcome, he wasn’t sure that it was something that either of them had expected. 

Maybe in the back of his mind he’d always wondered. Even when they were teenagers, Louis had sometimes found his mind drifting to a place where that kind of thing was okay. Where it would be okay for him to try kissing his best friend’s little brother. The smile had faded from Harry’s lips by this point, and without Louis even realizing it, he’d been crowded against the wall, chest to chest with Harry.

“Is this—” Harry started shakily, letting out a ragged breath. His nervous hands settled on Louis’s hips, keeping him close. “Is this okay?”

Immediately, Louis nodded. “Yes,” he breathed into the space between them. He tilted his chin up, locking eyes with Harry. 

Harry’s hand traveled up the length of Louis’s side until it reached his cheek, sweeping back and forth softly over his prominent cheekbones. Louis reached up, wrapping his hand around Harry’s wrist to keep him there. To _assure_ that he wouldn’t pull away. A ghost of a smile swept across Harry’s lips, his thumb brushing across the pink skin of Louis’s bottom lip.

“Don’t stop,” Louis said, tempted to flick his tongue out, to taste the tip of Harry’s finger. Harry’s gaze was focused on his lips, and Louis took the opportunity to act, sucking the end of his thumb into his mouth. Teasing.

Without waiting a second longer, Harry took the bait, surging forward to crash their lips together. It was like time both sped up and slowed down, both of their bodies moving in sync as they hurried to rid each other of their pool soaked briefs. Harry broke apart just long enough to reach down in his suitcase, returning quickly with a bottle of lube. 

“Not wasting any time, are you?” Louis huffed out a laugh, turning around so that his chest was flush against the wall. 

Harry pressed himself close, his already half-hard cock sliding against Louis’s ass. Louis’s forehead thunked against the wall, mouth falling open in a short moan as Harry’s finger breached him. “I think we’ve wasted enough time, don’t you?” Harry said between sucking kisses into the side of Louis’s throat. Louis made a small, sweet little sound as Harry added another thick finger inside of him. “How’s that, Lou?” Harry asked against his skin, fucking him thoroughly with his fingers. 

Louis could only gasp, nodding the most that he could with his face pressed against the wall. “It’s good,” he encouraged, pushing his hips back slowly to meet each thrust. “Want you, though.”

Harry tutted. “I think you might need another finger, baby. You’re so tight.”

“Mm,” Louis hummed, shifting his hips in a figure eight, testing out the resistance. “Don’t need it. Want to feel you stretch me.”

“Fuck,” Harry sighed, reaching down to pump his cock in his hand. “Turn around to face me.”

Louis obeyed, and Harry’s hands immediately grabbed for his waist, pulling him close. Louis gasped as their lips met, Harry’s tongue swiping against his own, their lips sliding together. 

Harry changed the positioning of his hands to grip Louis’s hips, lifting him up as if he weighed nothing. Louis went easily, tilting his body back until his shoulders were pressed firmly against the wall, his lower body angled out, cradled in Harry’s hold. His gaze flickered from Harry’s cock to his eyes, searing blue even in the darkness, and Harry took that moment to push himself inside. Louis’s hand that was draped over his shoulder slid up suddenly, cupping the back of Harry’s neck to hold on as he sunk down onto Harry’s cock.

Louis’s sounds were soft and pleading, his ruffled hair falling into his eyes as he clung onto Harry, nails digging into his taut flesh. Each of Harry’s thrusts had Louis’s back grating the wall, but neither of them could be asked to care, too busy chasing pleasure from each other.

“Is this how you like it?” Harry breathed between kisses, biting gently on Louis’s lower lip. Louis’s mouth fell open in a desperate moan as Harry delivered a particularly hard thrust, their foreheads knocking together. All Louis could do was nod. “Want someone to hold you up and make you take it, yeah?” Harry continued, nipping playfully at Louis’s lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Harry,” Louis breathed, letting himself be bounced up and down with each of Harry’s thrusts inside. “ _Fuck_ ,” he whined, brow knitting together as he concentrated on not coming on the spot. 

As if on cue, Harry’s grip tightened on him and his thrusts become harder, fucking deeply into Louis. “Not going to last very long, Lou,” he warned, sucking a bruise into his clavicle. “You feel incredible.”

Louis’s eyes rolled back, his hand finding his cock, corkscrewing the tip just the way he liked until the welcome warmth of his orgasm pinched in his stomach and he came, shooting off between their stomachs. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” he gasped, working himself to completion while letting himself be used like some kind of doll. His breathing became labored as Harry continued to fuck harshly inside of him, his throbbing cock pounding inside of Louis causing his spent cock to already begin to stir once more.

His hand tangled in the back of Harry’s curls, tugging his face in the perfect position to kiss him once more. “Want you to come inside me,” Louis said against his mouth, a high pitched whine being pushed out of him with a particularly rough thrust.

“Whatever you want,” Harry panted against him desperately, his thrusts getting sloppier the closer he pushed himself to the edge. “Anything you want.”

“Fuck, _please_ ,” Louis moaned, his head thudding back against the wall, his shoulders scratched and scraped from being repeatedly thrust up against it. The picture frame that hung next to them rattled along with each of Harry’s thrusts, and Louis was about to come again. “Need it,” Louis said breathily, working his hand along his cock speedily, feeling the familiar tug in his lower belly. “Need you.”

Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Louis’s and pressing a firm kiss to him. “Need you,” he said against his lips. “Give me one more.”

It just about brought Louis to tears to come again, but he followed through shortly after Harry asked for it, the orgasm wracking his body in full shivers, leaving him shaking in Harry’s hold. Harry practically yelled, slamming his cock all the way inside as he came deep, filling Louis with it. 

Louis felt himself become dead weight, and Harry laughed softly, kissing sweetly along the column of Louis’s throat. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to stand,” Louis told him honestly.

Harry chuckled. “I’ll carry you. We need to wash off before we get in bed.” Harry carried him into the bathroom, placing him gently on the counter as he went over to run the water into the oversized tub. As the water filled the basin of the bath, Harry crowded back into Louis’s space, standing between his legs and kissing him lazily. “Stay here with me tonight?”

Louis nodded, smiling and giddy. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Morning came too soon, mostly because they only managed to sleep for a few hours. Harry hadn’t let him rest until the early morning, insisting that they had to make up for lost time, and Louis found himself agreeing. They had missed out on so many years of this, it almost seemed unfair. After years of being alone, Louis had finally found the partner he’d been dreaming of, _literally_. Finally having a chance with the guy that he’d reminisced on for years, regretted never giving Harry a chance when they were younger. And now they had all the time in the world.

Louis’s eyes blinked open and he looked over, partially blinded in the early morning light streaming in from between the hotel window’s curtains. He rolled over, seeking warmth from the broad, curly haired man next to him only to find empty space. The sheets had cooled, long since absent of body heat. Louis rubbed at his eyes to help them to better focus, unable to comprehend exactly what he was seeing.

He instantly saw that the suitcase that Harry had brought to town with him was now gone. Panic set in, and for a brief moment Louis thought that perhaps Harry had been kidnapped in the dead of night, not knowing a _single_ other reason why he would’ve just up and vanished like that.

But deep down, he knew. He knew that Harry had left without a word to him. Just hours ago his trunk had been laid out, open with articles of clothing half falling out of the baggage. But his belongings were no longer strewn about, and his side of the bed was now halfheartedly made back up, sheets tucked in and comforter laid flat and smoothed over. Besides the dull ache in Louis’s bones, there was practically no evidence left in the room that Harry had even been there at all.

But he was gone, and Louis was once again alone.

✩

_three weeks later_

Visits to the flower shop had become a bit of a thing for Louis over the last few weeks. Ever since the morning after Gemma’s wedding, Louis had promised himself that he’d do better at appreciating the little things in life, but especially appreciating the things that made him happy, no matter how small. So, he’d become a regular at the flower shop. 

Marly’s grandfather owned it, but she ran it for the most part, so she always found some reason or another to cut Louis a deal the days he’d come in. 

“Because it’s Friday,” she said, handing him a bundle of purple tulips, wrapped neatly in package paper and tied with twine. 

Louis couldn’t help but to smile. He knew that as his friend and one of his closest confidants, Marly was still trying to do her best to cheer him up after Harry ghosted him. He appreciated it, even if it was only flowers. It meant more to him than that. They had become a staple in his home, and each week when he came by the shop to grab a new batch, Marly always picked the happiest flowers for him. They always managed to brighten his day. 

“Please let me pay you this time,” Louis begged, but she was already shaking her head. 

“Absolutely not, it’s against store policy,” Marly said, turning her back to him and beginning to work on a custom bouquet order that she’d gotten right before Louis had stopped in.

Louis scoffed, “Store policy? Sounds like a load of bullsh—” 

He was cut off by the bell hung over the door, signaling that a new customer had entered the shop. He turned to look over his shoulder, and immediately wished that he hadn’t. 

Harry was stopped halfway through the door, like he was frozen mid-stride. His eyes widened as Louis’s eyes met his, though he’d clearly recognized him before he’d even turned around. Embarrassment flushed across Louis’s features and he quickly turned away from Harry and back to Marly, who was now looking at the scene before her as if she was witnessing a gruesome train crash. 

“Holy shit,” she said under her breath as Harry finally managed to move and make his way up to the counter. “Hi,” she said in her cheery, customer service voice. “Pick up order?”

Harry nodded, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Yeah, Mar, thanks.”

“No problem, Harry. Give me one second, okay?” She flashed him a quick smile before shooting an apologetic look towards Louis, then disappearing into the back.

Harry shuffled his feet against the stained wooden flooring, biting at his pump bottom lip, glancing over at Louis. “Alright, Lou?”

Louis fought off every instinct inside of him urging him to _run_ , and instead gave Harry an undeservingly gentle smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. How’ve you been?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m alright. Just got settled into the new place, so it’s been hectic for a bit, but it’s nice to be back.”

Louis hummed, checking his watch when it vibrated, wishing he was anywhere but here. He wasn’t sure what had come over him, or why he had the sudden need to stand here and subject himself to this kind of torture. Harry leaving him all those weeks ago broke something inside of him. Maybe it had just been one simple, stupid night to Harry, but it had meant more to Louis. And now he was paying for it.

“Flowers for your mum?” Louis asked, gesturing to the custom bouquet that Marly was now handing to him. “I know her birthday is coming up.”

“Actually, I’m—” Harry’s eyes shifted away, and he rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, taking the flowers with the other. “Going on a date. My friend set me up with someone in their department, and—yeah.”

Louis laughed, because honestly, of _course_ Harry was going on a date. “Got it. Well, have fun. Bye, Mar,” Louis said with a tight smile in her direction before turning to leave.

“Wait!” Harry called out, louder than necessary, grabbing onto Louis’s wrist to stop him from going anywhere. Louis glanced down at their point of contact, unimpressed. Harry’s grip was too tight, and he seemed to realize it quickly, forgetting how big and _strong_ he’d gotten in recent years. 

“Do you need something?” Louis asked in a bored tone. His throat twisted shut, but he hoped his expression stayed neutral as he looked at Harry. His mind betrayed him, flashing a million different scenarios where Harry’s hands gripped both of his wrists in one hand, his hold impossibly tight to keep Louis in place while he squirmed. He looked away.

Harry stuttered, like he didn’t think he would manage to get this far. “I—” he started, chewing his cheek nervously. “Your phone number? Gemma—well, she wouldn’t give it to me after the wedding. She said you were a bit cross with me.” Louis’s brow practically disappeared into his hairline. Harry began scrambling. “Which I understand! I’m so sorry, by the way. I-I mean, I would’ve been angry too, you know? I should’ve explained, not that it really matters at this point but—”

“You know what, Harry?” Louis began, tucking his tulips in the crook of his arm. “It’s fine. Shit happens, and clearly we weren’t on the same page. Life goes on, but life will continue to go on without you having my number. I see no reason for you to try to reach me. Have a nice day.”

Louis heard Harry cursing softly behind him as he brushed past, walking outside and beginning to make his way down the sidewalk. Louis’s name was called out in that low, raspy voice, and his stupid feet slowed to a stop, even though he was _completely_ over everything about this conversation. He turned, looking at Harry. “Yes?”

“If you won’t give me your number, let me give you mine,” Harry said confidently, though Louis suspected it was actually more of a plea. Against the hurt he still harbored and his better judgment, Louis found himself nodding. Harry smiled just a little and pulled a pen from his coat pocket, jotting down the string of digits on the brown paper wrapped around Louis’s tulips. He scribbled down his number, punctuating it with a little lopsided heart and an _H_. “Call me any time, yeah? I really would like to catch up. Maybe start over, if you’d give me a chance.”

Louis hesitated for only a second, then nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly, already turning to leave, wiggling his fingers in a quick wave. “Maybe I will.”

It took about six hours and one and a half glasses of wine for Louis to realize that he’d made a mistake.

> _Hi._  
> _It’s Louis.  
_ > _Are you busy?_

The response from Harry came quick. _Too_ quick. The wine had Louis smiling giddily into his sleeve, anyway, despite everything.

< _Hey, Lou. Never too busy for you. What’s up?_

A confusing swirl of both adrenaline and shame settled deep. Louis looked at his half-empty glass of wine, thinking that he’d had enough. He glanced back at the read text open on his phone, contemplating on whether or not he should even respond.

The liquid courage answered for him.

> _Can I come over? So we can talk?_

It took less than a minute to receive back a simple _Yes_ , from Harry, along with a pin of his location. Without letting himself think twice about it, Louis made his way to the door, grabbing his wallet, keys, and coat, and headed to Harry’s.

Not twenty minutes later, Louis was standing outside of Harry’s new place, banging on the door. It was cold, is the thing, and the winter chill was biting at Louis’s nose, making it pinker than usual. That was his excuse, really. It was freezing, and Harry was taking too long to open the bloody door.

“Fucking hell, going to lose me fingers out here if he makes me wait longer. Fucking wanker. If he wasn’t going to come to the door, why’d he say yes in the first place? An absolute ass, I’m telling yo—oh, hi, Harry,” he said as Harry suddenly swung open the door, still drying off his damp curls with a towel.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry said hastily, stepping back to let Louis in. “Figured I’d hop in the shower before you got here.”

“Right,” Louis said, shucking off his jacket as he began to look around. 

Everything looked old, but still in good shape. Like he’d sold off his belongings in Turkey rather than having them shipped to England, and replaced everything with furniture he’d found in secondhand stores. Little pieces of him were scattered throughout the space. Dirty, white Vans were tossed by the door, like he’d kicked them off the moment he stepped inside. Framed pictures of his first big find in Turkey were hung along the hallway, and Louis smiled, feeling something unfamiliar tug at his heartstrings. He sniffled from the cold, wrapped his arms around himself, and refused to look at Harry.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry said from behind him. “Want anything to eat? Drink?”

Louis shook his head, barely glancing back at him. “No, thanks, I’m good. Just a bit cold, is all.”

“Want one of my jumpers?” Harry asked, and before Louis could even answer, Harry was running off to his bedroom to grab one. It was big and knitted, at least three sizes too large for Louis to wear comfortably, but he was cozy in it, which is what Harry said mattered.

“What did you want to talk about?” Harry asked over the fresh mugs of cocoa that he’d just made for them. 

And, well. That made Louis pause. He figured that it would be _obvious_ what he wanted to talk about. Harry was acting like the fact that he up and left Louis the morning after the wedding had only been a figment of his nightmares, though he knew it had been anything but. Unfortunately it was _very_ real, and up to this point it had been _very_ ignored. By the both of them.

Louis laughed, the sound hollow and emotionless. He pushed his cocoa away, sloshing some of the sugar drink out of the cup. “What do I want to _talk_ about? Harry, you can’t be fucking serious.”

“Why are you suddenly being such a brat?” Harry snapped, his features displaying a mixture of his sudden anger and confusion. “I thought you had maybe taken what I said earlier to heart or some shit, and had come over to give me a chance to explain, yeah? Instead I get this—this attitude? Like, what the fuck, Lou? I know what I did came off shitty but if you just gave me second to _tell you_ why I left like that then—”

“You know what?” Louis said, standing up quickly, ready to fight. Harry followed, practically crowding into his space, and Louis felt the energy between them shift to something stuffy, and heated. The knitted jumper felt like a second skin at this point, and he needed it _off_. The air between them was thick with anger and unspoken words, but there was an underlying current of need that thrummed beneath their skin. Harry reached an arm out, and Louis didn’t stop him.

Now that they were close enough to touch, it’s suddenly all that they were doing. Louis’s hands found themselves underneath Harry’s shirt, already pushing it up and off of him. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to talk tonight.” 

Harry’s breath seemed to slip from his body, immediately melting into Louis’s touch. His hands immediately found Louis’s wrists, holding them to his body, allowing them to explore the length of his torso before bringing them up to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to them. “Yeah, fuck,” Harry agreed with a soft moan. “We can talk in the morning.”

Louis hummed softly. “I’m still mad at you,” Louis clarified, dragging his hands down Harry’s now exposed chest, leaving red nail marks in his wake. “Just for the record.”

“Duly noted,” Harry groaned as Louis pulled back Harry’s sweatpants and slid his hand inside, pumping his cock slowly.

“Don’t even want to hear you speak anymore, actually,” Louis said sweetly, big blue eyes and bitten pink lips looking up at Harry from beneath his lashes. 

Harry groaned, his thumb finding Louis’s lip and tugging it down. “Why is watching you take control so fucking hot?” Harry mused, pushing his hips forward so that his cock slid further into Louis’s grasp. 

“Get your kit off,” Louis said, pulling the jumper and his own shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him. “Lube?”

Harry kicked off his sweatpants, already leaning over to open a drawer in one of the side tables next to his sofa, pulling out a bottle. “Over the back of the couch,” Harry ordered, nodding in the direction he wanted Louis. 

Louis bent over, his spine curved prettily and ass perked up in the air for Harry to play with. His cock was pressed between his body and the backing of the couch, applying needed pressure. He moaned softly as he felt one of Harry’s cool dipped fingers push inside of him. Harry’s free hand wound around Louis’s neck, pulling him back to press flush against his chest. His grip tightened and his fingers crooked at just the perfect time to cause Louis to see stars, gasping at the feeling of being stretched and moved however Harry wanted. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry whispered hotly against the shell of his ear, nipping at the skin just below his jaw as he added another finger.

Louis’s mouth parted, his eyes closed as he just let himself _feel_. “Thought I said that I didn’t want to hear you speak,” he said, his voice coming out high and needy.

“Look at me, love,” Harry said between sucking bruises into his skin, tilting Louis’s face in his direction for a kiss. Louis’s eyes stayed closed. A third finger was added just at that moment, the stretch heavy inside of him and rubbing all the places he so deeply craved to feel. Harry pulled back slowly. “Lou?”

Louis’s eyes barely opened at that, parted _just_ enough. “Don’t feel like listening to you tonight,” he said petulantly, pushing back on Harry’s thick fingers a little, urging him to continue. “Get on with it, then.”

“Get on with it?” Harry echoed, his voice dipping dangerously low. Louis’s eyes opened slightly wider, taking in his expression. His face showed a muddled mix of confusion and arousal; the green of his eyes was darker than Louis had ever seen, and he found himself lost in them, now unable to look away.

Louis bit at his bottom lip, fucking himself back on Harry’s fingers once more. “You heard me,” he said softly, in the softest voice he could muster.

At that, Harry’s fingers were pulled from inside of him. Louis gasped, feeling himself gape, then clench around absolutely nothing. He let out a whine, pushing his ass towards the direction of Harry. “ _Harry_.”

“Want to be a good boy?” Harry asked casually, as if he hadn’t just been half a hand deep inside of Louis. “Want to be good for me now?”

Louis’s heart rate quickened, and he forced himself not to answer. He was hauled back by an arm around his chest, and led over to the side of the room where Harry flipped him around so that his back was pressed against the wall. “I seem to remember you especially like this position,” Harry mused softly, pumping his cock and coating it with the leftover lube he’d used to open Louis up. 

Louis’s eyes were drawn to his hand, the way he so confidently stroked his long, thick length. Watching him like this was almost enough to make Louis forget how upset he was with him.

_Almost_.

“Look at _me_ ,” Harry practically growled, grabbing Louis’s face, his fingers digging into the hollows of his cheeks before angling one of Louis’s legs up, sliding his cock into Louis’s worked open hole. Louis’s scoff quickly turned into a moan as Harry lifted his other leg and easily held him up, pressing his back into the wall as he shifted his hips a bit, letting Louis get used to being full. “Still being a little brat, even when I’m inside of you,” Harry said breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Louis’s mouth. Louis thought he heard a smile in Harry’s voice, and had to force himself to bite back one of his own.

Louis jerked his face away, weakly trying to avoid having Harry kiss him again. His mouth dropped open slightly as Harry bottomed out, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck you,” Louis gasped, breath hitching in his throat. He wanted to yell at him, he wanted to scream. He wanted to make sure that Harry knew that this didn’t mean anything, that this didn’t fix anything between them. He was still angry at him for leaving, for not saying anything about it, but he’d never felt so full or so _satisfied_ in his entire life. 

But he was unable to able to put any force behind his words, or hardly get anything out at all, with the way Harry was roughly fucking into him. Instead, he settled for digging his fingernails into the taut skin of Harry’s shoulders, slowly dragging them down the expanse of his muscled back. 

Harry let out a deep groan, burying his face in the crook of Louis’s neck, nipping gently at the skin there. Louis’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry shifted his position, pounding his cock into Louis relentlessly. Louis jumped at the loud bang directly to the left of his head as Harry’s hand slammed against the wall beside him, making Louis bounce a little with each thrust. A positively broken noise ripped from Louis’ chest at the realization that Harry was now holding him up with only one arm.

It only lasts for a moment, because Louis became absolutely boneless once Harry changed the angle of his thrusts and began rubbing his spot with each stroke. Harry quickly took ahold of him again, hauling Louis up by his ass, his interlocked ankles knocking against Harry’s back every time Harry sank his cock inside of him. 

“Come for me, baby,” Harry groaned against Louis’s skin, sucking a bright red mark into his collarbone. “Want to feel that pretty little hole clench around my cock. So fucking tight for me, aren’t you? So good for me.”

Louis sobbed, slumping forward and wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck as he was repeatedly impaled on his thick, long cock, being pushed closer and closer to the edge. His orgasm washed over him in waves, his cock kicking as he came, coating the space between them with his cum. Harry groaned, face nuzzled in Louis’s neck as he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside of him. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis said softly through laughter that Harry joined in on. “Gonna have to carry me to bed again.” 

“I can do that,” Harry said, gently kissing his nose. He scooped him up, holding him close as he carried Louis through the house to his bedroom. He cleaned him up, careful on his used body and aching bones, kissing him as he went. 

They curled up together, whispering to each other about the smallest things and it took Louis back to another lifetime where sleepovers were a common occurrence, and the cozy warmth found beneath Harry’s dinosaur sheets was the safest place in the world. Harry’s soft, even breaths puffed against Louis’s cheek as he drifted off, and he held him like a pillow, curving his body around him and holding him tight.

It made getting up to leave a bit difficult, but Louis made it work. He did his best to be as quiet as he could, sneaking through Harry’s house. One false move could wake him up, which made finding his discarded clothing harder than it needed to be. But, soon enough Louis was fully dressed, and slipping off into the night.

✩

The next morning, the front door to his house flew open just as Louis was mixing his morning cuppa. It practically flew right out of his hand and he shrieked, reaching for the nearest weapon in his kitchen which just so happened to be a tin opener. 

Harry barged in, already dressed for work with his brow creased and jaw set as he tossed a small, golden key onto the table in the foyer. “Spare key hidden in the fake plant outside, Louis? Really?”

“I—” Louis placed the tin opener down on the counter, wrapping his robe tighter around his frame. “What the fuck, Harry?”

“You left!” Harry said, throwing his arms out to the side, as if that wasn’t obvious enough. “You left, and I woke up alone.”

Louis just stood there, mouth practically falling open. He wanted to scream, or throw something. Maybe the tin opener. Instead, he just threw his hands out to his sides as well, mimicking Harry’s posture. “And?” he asked incredulously.

Harry scoffed, a disbelieving smile spread across his face as if _he_ didn’t understand how _Louis_ wasn’t grasping his point. “You _left me_ , Louis!”

Louis was practically shaking by this point, the anger he’d had bottled up over the last few weeks finally overflowing, seeping into his very bones, boiling over. He saw red. “And you deserved it!” he shouted. “You left me after the wedding, Harry! If you weren’t interested in me in the way I was, then you should’ve just fucking said so!”

Harry took a step back. Maybe from the outburst in general, or maybe from the words themselves. And Louis had expected as much. He’d expected for his words, for his admission of his feelings for Harry to eventually push him away. But what he hadn’t expected was the look of confusion on Harry’s face. It only made Louis angrier. 

“What’re you looking at me like that for?” He snapped, even more defensive than before. 

The crease between Harry’s brows deepened. “I’m just—what?”

Louis felt like he was losing this fight even though they were hardly even saying anything. “I—what do you mean, _what_? I mean that if you only saw me as a quick fuck, you could’ve just said so. And honestly, even if that _was_ all you saw me as, I still didn’t deserve for you to just fucking up and leave me like that.” The words left him feeling raw and exposed, like he’d just taken a slice out of his heart and presented it to Harry on a silver platter. There were few things that Louis hated more than feeling vulnerable, especially when it wasn’t reciprocated. He instinctively bristled, his walls going back up brick by brick.

Harry shook his head, stepping closer. “You didn’t deserve that.”

And—well, that’s not what Louis had been expecting him to say, even if it _was_ true. He was just glad that both of them knew it. Some of the tension dissolved from his posture, and he quirked a quizzical brow, intrigued.

“I know I didn’t,” Louis said defensively, crossing his arms to keep himself from instinctively reaching out to touch Harry. None of his own reactions made sense, which frustrated Louis even more. Even though he was positively _livid_ with Harry, he wanted nothing more than to seek comfort from him. 

Unwelcome pressure built behind his eyes, out of frustration and something else he refused to put a name to. “No one deserves that, Harry,” Louis sniffled, rubbing his thumb soothingly back and forth over the sleeve of his jumper. 

Heartbreak streaked across Harry’s face, and it took everything in Louis for him not to start to cry. 

“Baby,” Harry said softly. “I didn’t leave you because I wanted to. I would never _want_ to leave you, Lou.”

It was like puzzle pieces falling together, a dam breaking. A sob ripped from Louis’s chest at that, wet and maybe even a little _happy_. It wasn’t exactly what he needed to hear, but it was something. It was a start.

“You wouldn’t?” Louis asked, his voice small and hopeful.

“ _No_ ,” Harry insisted, wrapping his big hands around Louis’s arms and gently tugging him close. “I swear, baby. Listen. I was just so wrapped up in that night—in _us_ —that I forgot to mention that my flight back to Turkey was so early. I had to head back to finalize the sale of my place and finish moving everything out before close. We stayed up until four or so, and thank fuck I already had my alarm for six because it scared the shit out of me and I was still half drunk and panicked, and. Yeah, I just. Baby, I had to run. I tried to wake you up, but you were out cold. And then by the time I landed and tried to get your phone number from Gemma, and I guess you’d already woken up and realized I left without a word and—well, you were already pretty angry. I asked her for your phone number so that I could apologize but she said I didn’t deserve it. Which, seeing how much it hurt you, I would say that she was probably right.”

Louis sniffled. “That’s—”

“Probably not what you wanted to hear,” Harry finished. “But I’m not done. Louis, I fucked up, I really did. When I say that I would spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I mean it,” As if coaxing a frightened animal from the brush, Harry moved gently, angling Louis’s face up towards his with his thumb. “Lou, as embarrassing as it is, I’ve loved you since I was sixteen. And I will do absolutely _whatever_ it takes to—”

Louis smiled, having heard enough. He reached out, winding the ridiculously patterned tie that Harry was wearing around his fist, and tugged him forward until their lips crashed together. 

Harry quickly grabbed him under his thighs, lifting him easily so that Louis’s legs could wrap around his middle. “Bedroom?” Harry mumbled into the kiss, the both of their laughs echoing throughout the house as Louis blindly directed them. 

He knew they had made it once Harry plopped him onto the mattress, his lithe little frame bouncing against the bed as Harry crawled on top of him. 

“God,” Louis breathed into Harry’s mouth, his tongue sliding against his. Harry’s hands were already ripping the buttons of his own shirt open, and Louis helped to push it off of his shoulders. “Everyone else was a waste of time.” 

Harry reached down, making quick work of undoing his own trousers before untying Louis’s robe, exposing his bare body beneath. “Could’ve been doing this for years,” he agreed against Louis’s lips. 

Louis whined, starting to feel a little desperate for it. “Could be doing it now if you’d hurry up,” he urged, watching as Harry wiggled out of his pants. 

“Look at me,” Harry whispered, and Louis wasn’t even sure that he was meant to hear it. His eyes fluttered open, lashes clumped together and wet from unshed tears. Louis’s eyes were completely fucking blown, the thin, bright blue ring of his irises barely lining his dilated pupils. His cheeks were already flushed, sweat dotting his hairline. His mouth was swollen and pink, licked wet and dropped open in exertion. Harry found himself thinking that he had never seen anything or anyone more beautiful than this. Than Louis. He dipped his head down, unable to resist from kissing those rose-tinged lips. 

“Fuck me,” Louis sighed, eyes helplessly falling shut again as Harry shifted his hips forward, beginning to push his cock inside of Louis, still wet and open from the night before.

“Don’t leave me again,” Louis begged breathily between gasps. Harry’s eyes darted up, locking gazes with him and Louis immediately began to squirm under the attention. He knew the words didn’t come out like the pseudo-threat that he meant them to be. It sounded like the plea that it actually was. _Don’t leave me again. Please. I can’t lose you a third time._

Harry dipped down, kissing him. Louis practically sobbed into it, unsure if the tears were from how perfectly Harry’s cock stroked inside of him, or something more. Their foreheads pressed together, panting into each other’s mouths between wet kisses. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry promised, punctuating it with another kiss. Louis whimpered, his hips moving in time with Harry’s thrusts, feeling his orgasm building steadily in his gut. 

Louis whined, high pitched and desperate and decided that this wasn’t enough. He needed Harry impossibly deeper, needed to feel _all_ of him, if that was even possible.

He wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, focusing on using all of his weight to flip them over so that he could be on top. He was impressed with himself even though he knew that Harry _definitely_ allowed them to be moved, certain that if this man wanted for Louis to be beneath him, then he _certainly_ would be. Harry was laid out against the pristine white sheets of Louis’s bed, his button down shirt splayed open and his tie halfway hanging off his neck, panting as he watched Louis reposition himself and begin to move his hips slowly. 

The second he lowered himself onto Harry’s cock completely, he couldn’t help but moan. Harry’s abs clenched at the new sensation, and he wrapped his hands around Louis’s waist. Much to Louis’s delight, the span of Harry’s hands completely covered his waist, and he let himself be moved up and down, allowing Harry to dictate the pace in which he rode his cock. 

“Fuck, Harry, can feel you here,” Louis gasped, hands settling on his lower stomach at an upstroke. It was obvious that the small, but prominent bulge of Louis’s lower stomach shifted every time Harry fucked up into him. When he laid his hand over the spot, he felt the firm tip of Harry’s unfairly long, thick cock pushing inside of him. “Oh, fuck, I’m going to come,” Louis warned him, bouncing up and down on his cock until he froze, shaking as his orgasm overcame him and he spilled, streaking pearly cum along Harry’s stomach. 

“So fucking perfect,” Harry moaned as he moved Louis how he liked, shifting him up and down easily, fucking him onto his cock. He pulled him all the way down, seating him completely as he came deep inside with a loud groan.

It didn’t feel real, Louis decided. Nothing about this felt real, laying in the early morning sunlight streaming in through the bay windows of his bedroom, streaking their bodies in gold. It didn’t feel real to be laying next to the man that he loved, knowing that he loved him back. He pulled off, laying down beside Harry and snuggling close. Harry kissed him like it was the last thing he’d ever do, and Louis thought, _yeah. I could get used to this._

“Hey, Haz?” Louis said, still panting heavily, reveling in the ache in his muscles and the sheen of sweat on his skin. Harry hummed, draping a possessive arm over Louis’s waist to tug the smaller man even closer against his side. Louis looked at Harry, at this man he’s grown to love, at this man he’s _always_ loved, and smiled. “I think I’ve loved you since then, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bruisedhoney) or [tumblr](https://yvesaintlourent.tumblr.com/), and you can reblog or retweet the fic posts [here](https://yvesaintlourent.tumblr.com/post/636489860388208640/%F0%9D%9A%9C%F0%9D%9A%91%F0%9D%9A%98%F0%9D%9A%A0-%F0%9D%9A%A2%F0%9D%9A%98%F0%9D%9A%9E-%F0%9D%9A%9D%F0%9D%9A%91%F0%9D%9A%8E-%F0%9D%9A%9C%F0%9D%9A%9D%F0%9D%9A%8A%F0%9D%9A%9B%F0%9D%9A%9C-%F0%9D%9A%92%F0%9D%9A%97-%F0%9D%9A%9D%F0%9D%9A%91%F0%9D%9A%8E-%F0%9D%9A%8D%F0%9D%9A%8A%F0%9D%9A%A2%F0%9D%9A%95%F0%9D%9A%92%F0%9D%9A%90%F0%9D%9A%91%F0%9D%9A%9D-explicit) or [here](https://twitter.com/bruisedhoney/status/1334497682879078400) :)


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